“Aw. It’s sad not to have any friends,” Paige said. “You’re stuck bowling all by yourself every Friday and Saturday night.”
Reason number three I’d broken up with Paige: She could be mean.
“Not anymore.” I sent Ali a smile. “Right, Ali?”
“Sure,” Ali said. “But the reason I bowl a lot is because I’m on the bowling team at school. So, save your pity.”
“We have a bowling team?” Gwen asked before breaking into giggles.
That was a surprise to me too. It must have shown on my face because Ali arched an eyebrow in my direction.
“And, Gwen?” Ali waited until Gwen stopped laughing. “The ‘old guy’ at the counter is a Vietnam veteran and a two-time PBA champion. His name is Mr. Jones.”
“Like I care. Ugh. I broke a nail!” Gwen dropped her ball loudly back to the return and held up her hand for everyone to see. “I just got them done yesterday.”
Ali regarded Gwen like she was a gutter ball in a tense game. The two girls couldn’t be more different, so yeah.
With a shake of her head, Ali turned her back on the other lane. “You’re up.”
I wasn’t the excellent bowler Paige made me out to be but I was competitive. I liked to excel and I loved to win. Which meant this was the perfect opportunity.
“Do you mind helping me with my technique?” I asked.
Ali blinked at me twice. “Sure. First of all, instead of aiming down at the pins, target the floorboards.”
That piece of advice improved my roll instantly. Enough that I might even beat TJ and Grady next time we played.
“Is the team ready for Sterling this Friday, Dax?” Paige asked, right in the middle of my roll.
I kept my focus and threw my ball—a strike—before responding.
“We’re ready.” Sterling didn’t have a strong football program so this should be an easy win. Should be. I had to admit with the way I’d been off my game, I didn’t count on sure things lately.
“We’ve got a new cheer for it,” Paige said. “I think you’re going to love it.”
I doubted I’d even hear it. We came out of the locker room so hyper-focused that not much off the field registered.
“It’s super awesome,” Gwen said. “Paige does an aerial and lands in a split.”
“I’m happy to continue our tradition of the good luck kiss before the game.” Paige smiled like we had a secret between us.
“Not necessary.” Or wanted. I knew what Paige was doing. Acting like we were still together while getting in a dig at Ali. It didn’t look like Ali minded, but I did. “To be honest, I don’t actually believe in luck.”
“I guess you’ll be going to the game now?” Gwen asked Ali, only to have Paige elbow her in the ribs. “Or not. That’s right. You bowling nerds never go to the football games.”
Ali looked across at Gwen. “We bowling nerds do whatever we want. We’re sheep dogs, not sheep.”
“OMG, she totally called herself a dog!” Gwen laughed.
“So, you’re not going to Dax’s game?” Paige crossed her arms, looking all superior. “What kind of supportive girlfriend are you?”
“The kind who has her own life. The kind who doesn’t wrap herself around her guy like a boa constrictor and choke the life out of him. The kind who can be supportive without attaching herself to him like a burr on a bear’s butt.”
I tried not to laugh. I failed.
8
It Ain’t All Rainbows and Unicorn Farts
Ali
Varsity Bowling Practice, 3:46 p.m.
I used to be good at making friends. At least I thought so until my friends had turned on me. Them and every other kid at school. When my dad and the counselor suggested I transfer schools, I jumped on it. Dad felt horrible that I was being blamed for something that wasn’t my fault. Heck, it wasn’t even his fault but he felt responsible.
Whatever. New school. No wild gossip. No kids and ex-friends stuffing “You suck” and “Grow a pair” notes in my locker. And those were the nicer notes. No angry glances or “accidental” pushes from behind. My dad thought the transfer would help. A fresh start with new friends. I decided not having friends would help. Instead, I curled up in a protective shell like a three-banded armadillo and had been rolling quietly through the hallways of my new high school toward graduation.
Until this morning. Until this morning when the look on my dad’s face broke me. My smart, driven, five-time Texas-high-school-state-champ winning football coach of a dad had been blindsided. Taken out. And it was like he was afraid to get back on the field. He needed to move on. My mother sure had. My dad deserved to be happy too. But he wouldn’t until he stopped worrying about me.
That was why I’d gone along with Dax’s wild story. When Dax told Paige he and I were together I was shocked and a little pissed. I opened my mouth to deny it—emphatically—but my dad’s voice whispered in my head… Making friends. Ogling cute boys. I’ll believe it when I see it, kiddo.
So, I said yes. I’d help DeLeon out and he could help me right back. Dax would be part of my show and tell to assure my dad he didn’t have to worry about me. Ogling cute boys. Check.
Next up? Making friends. What did I have in common with Shaniqua Johnson, Gabriela Lopez, Mariko Takahashi, Rowena Clark, and Bhakti Patel? Other than we were all on the varsity girls’ bowling team, I had no idea. Which was all my fault. Time to find out.
I pulled open the front door of Bowl-O-Rama and joined my teammates on the far side of the alley. Wait…not just teammates. Potential friends. Maybe.
Coach Diamond was already going over today’s practice goals down on lane twelve when I slid into one of the seats.
Bhakti sent me a smile and small wave of her hand from across the lane.
“You’re late, Frost,” Coach D said. “That’s a demerit. Two more and you’ve got BPD.”
“Yes, Coach.” BPD, aka ball polishing duty, sucked. Since not every girl on our team had her own bowling ball the school had five. Coach was fanatical about keeping the team’s balls clean. No one liked having to stay late to clean them.
“All right. SWD time. We’ve only got two lanes today on account of that rug-rat birthday party down at the end, so don’t waste time chattering.” Coach D tucked her clipboard under one arm. “ISD in thirty minutes.”
Coach was big on acronyms. Probably from her years in the Army. SWD. Stretching, warm-up on the lanes, and drills. ISD was individualized skill development. These weren’t actual bowling acronyms. Coach made them up on the fly.
As we stood in a loose circle stretching our shoulders, backs, hips, and hands, I cleared my throat and made my move.
“So, anyone watching the new mini-series on PBS?” Lame, sure. I was a little rusty at girl talk and a lot guilty that I’d mostly kept to myself ever since I’d joined the team at the end of last season. But I had to start somewhere.
All the girls sort of paused and blinked at me in surprise. Which I totally got. But it only lasted a second.
“The one with Benedict Cumberbatch? Giiirrrl, yes.” Shani fanned herself with her hand. “That man is fine.”
“I can’t believe they ended last week on that cliffhanger!” Bhakti said. “Don’t forget we’re watching at my house this weekend. Ali, you should come. Or join our group chat if you can’t make it.”
“Yes, Ali!” Gaby smiled at me.
Mari nodded. “It would be fun to have all of us there.”
“Are you sure?” These girls had every right to reject me.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t we be?” Rowena looked genuinely confused.
“It wasn’t like you’ve been mean to us or anything,” Mari said. “Unlike some of the stuck-up kids.”
“Well, no, but I…” I flinched as heat rushed into my cheeks because I’d ignored their offer of friendship. Repeatedly. They’d been amazingly sweet and inclusive when I’d arrived toward the end of bowling season last year. I was the one that had kept them at arm’s len
gth, politely turning down every study session, pizza party, or movie-marathon invitation.
“Rejected us?” Shani prompted.
Right. I had. I hadn’t meant to be a jerk. It had been a desperate attempt at self-preservation.
“A lot,” Gaby added.
“I’m sorry.” I forced myself to look at each girl. I needed to own what I’d done.
“We’re pretty used to it,” Rowena said.
“Everyone has some quirk. Heck, I’m forgetful. My mama says my brain is a colander.” Shani worked her way around the group. “Ro’s afraid of everything. Gaby’s gullible.”
I glanced over at Gabriela.
“It’s true.” She shrugged.
“Mari is fanatical about the environment—”
“We only have one planet.” Mari’s face went fierce.
“I’m indecisive.” Bhakti frowned. “I think. Some days. I guess is all relative.”
Rowena nodded. “Everyone’s a weirdo in their own way.”
“We figured you were anti-social.”
“I guess I was. But I’m trying to change.” I tensed, distrusting how easy they were making this. I wouldn’t blame them one bit if they made me grovel first. Put me through some embarrassing payback. I totally deserved it. “Trying to be a better friend.”
“Okay.” Mari smiled at me.
“Okay?” Okay? That simple? I told you these girls were nice. Guilt poked at my belly since my wanting acceptance into their circle had an ulterior motive. Not that it would hurt them in any way, but I was planning on using them. Their friendship. “I mean, okay. Thanks.”
“Now that we’re friends…” Shani leaned forward, a big grin on her face. “Giiirrrl, what is up with you and Dax DeLeon?”
“Uh…” Dax and I had only gone public this morning in first period, but in high school time, that was ages ago. Gossip flew faster than a high-speed internet connection. Especially when it involved the star quarterback. Dax DeLeon could get away with almost anything, but maybe not this time. This time he was breaking all the social hierarchy rules by being involved with an unknown certified bowling nerd.
“What?” Bhakti’s eyes went wide. “Ali and Dax?”
“We definitely need details,” Gaby said.
“Truth.” Rowena nodded. “Give it up. We’re going to need all the dirty details.”
“There’s not much to tell,” I said with a shrug which elicited frustrated groans from them all.
“Ladies!” Coach called her warning from the snack bar.
“Come on, Ali. We’ve never had front row seats to the cool kids before,” Bhakti said. “We’re usually in the top row of the bleacher seats.”
“Yeah.” Gaby nodded. “You can’t hold out on us.”
“I’m not. Honestly, there’s nothing to tell.” Their smiles and excitement disappeared quickly like when the team needed a strike but got a gutter-ball instead. Oh, man, I didn’t want to let these girls down already. “Yet. There’s nothing to tell yet. This thing between me and DeLeon—Dax—is brand new. And sort of sudden. He didn’t even know I existed until last week.”
That brightened their faces right back up.
“Wow.” Mari sighed. “Like love at first sight.”
“Hot jock falls for nerdy girl,” Gaby said. “It’s rom-com movie romantic.”
“Whoa, there, Gaby.” Shani held up her hand like a traffic cop. “It ain’t all roses and unicorn farts. You need to watch your back, Ali. You know how I heard about it? Gwen was spilling it to all the cheerleaders in the girl’s locker room. She said Paige is pissed. Really pissed. So be ready is all I’m saying.”
This wasn’t a surprise. I knew Paige was shocked when Dax first opened his mouth. When I went along and said it was true, her shock morphed, sliding right through pissed and ratcheting up to furious. Her face had pinched up, turned red, and her eyes narrowed on me like a wolverine eyes a defenseless rabbit. Paige and her friends could make a meal of me. I wasn’t sure I was ready to handle that again. But I didn’t have a choice. My dad came first; I needed to take care of my dad.
“Don’t look so worried,” Mari said. “You’ve got us now. We’ve got your back.”
“Exactly,” Bhakti agreed. “That’s what friends do.”
That hadn’t been my experience, but I was sure they meant well. I didn’t need anyone to have my back. I’d gone it alone before. Sort of, but I was stronger now. Okay, maybe not stronger, but smarter. I knew to watch my back. I wasn’t as trusting or naïve this time. It might be painful and embarrassing, but I only had to last three more semesters and then I could escape this small town.
“All right, ladies! ISD time!” Translation: Individual skills development. This was the time we each worked on our weak areas. Coach D wiped the last of the Cheetos dust from her lips, tossed the napkin in the trash, and moved to the first lane. “We’ve got our first meet in a few weeks against Hawthorne.”
During practice, Coach spent a few minutes stressing the fun aspect of bowling. But she was competitive. She brought up her favorite barracuda/goldfish analogy but didn’t bust out the whole speech. My guess was she was saving it for later in the season.
Her take-no-prisoners attitude was an uncomfortable fit for a team of awkward nerds who’d survived by surrendering at the slightest confrontation. Not that we didn’t want to tap into our inner barracudas. We did. But it was a work in progress and we were still goldfish.
We sat while Shani and Gaby went first. Shani stepped onto the approach and settled into her stance.
I thought over the conversation with my teammates—no…my friends—and snickered. “Roses and unicorn farts. Unicorn farts, Shani?”
Sadly, this broke Shani’s concentration mid-swing and her ball fell onto the lane with a crash.
“Johnson!” Coach chastised from four lanes over where she’d talked herself into a piece of the birthday girl’s pink princess cake from the birthday girl’s mom.
“It slipped, Coach,” Shani called over.
“I’m sorry! It’s just”—I laughed—“I mean, unicorn farts. What do they even smell like?”
“Like salt water taffy and sugar cookies had a baby, and the baby was dipped in a Cook-Out double chocolate milkshake. With whip cream. Everyone knows that.”
We busted out laughing.
“What the tarnation is up with you girls today?” Coach said from behind us. “Frost, you know better than to interrupt a bowler’s swing. You just got yourself another demerit.”
“Sorry, Coach.” But I wasn’t really. That laugh—this new feeling of closeness with these girls—was worth another demerit. When everything went down last year, I’d escaped inside myself. Protected myself from the mess my mom made of our lives. From my dad’s pain. From my pain. From the anger of kids at school. I’d locked up my heart, leaving it flash-frozen behind a wall of ice. Today was like a soft ray of sun shining down and melting it just a little.
After skills, we moved into knowledge building and then practicing what we’d learned. Then fun time (a quick game of around the world), psych time (today, Coach had us visualize our perfect roll), and we wrapped up with our five-minute closing meeting and a team cheer.
“Is everyone keeping up with their fitness workouts? Run, swim, or lift weights. I don’t care as long as you’re doing one of those.” Coach gave us her IGMEOY (“I’ve got my eye on you”) look. “Our first competition is just over two weeks away. We need a volunteer to host the first team pizza party that week. Any takers?”
This was the perfect opportunity for my dad to see I was making friends. See that I was fine and he could stop worrying about me and focus on himself.
“Me.” I raised my hand. “I will.”
“Thank you, Frost.” Coach penciled it onto her clipboard. “Make sure you send out the date, time, and address to the team.”
“Niiice,” Shani said.
Gaby winked at me, Mari smiled, Rowena nudged me with her shoulder, and Bhakti gave me a thumbs up.
Making new friends? Check.
9
Bowling Boyfriends are Not a Thing
Dax
Ali’s Locker, Oct 17, 7:51 a.m.
“Hey, babe.” I leaned my shoulder against the locker next to Ali’s and gave a gentle tug to her ponytail. “Good morning.”
She turned her head toward me and pinned me with a sharp look. “What are you doing here?”
“Meeting my girl at her locker before school.” I watched her face, amused at the slight grimace the words “my girl” elicited. Ali Frost was seemingly unimpressed with my quarterback status and I liked that. A lot. “It’s ‘B’ day so we won’t see each other in bowling today. Thought I’d, you know, catch you now. Walk you to class.”
“Oh, right. The couple thing,” she said, sliding her calculus book into her locker and slamming it closed. Calculus, huh? My pretend girlfriend was a brain. She turned to face me, leaning her shoulder against her locker with a foot of space between us. “First thing, don’t call me babe. Just no. Second, are we really one of those couples? I feel sure we’re one of those more modern couples who isn’t joined at the hip.”
I smiled down at her. “Normally, I would agree. Don’t like those clingy couples myself.” I’d been trying to extricate myself from that exact thing for months now. “But…the whole point of this is for Paige to see that you and I are together. So she’ll move on and leave me alone.”
“Fine. What else will this entail then?”
“Meet each other at our lockers a couple times a day.”
“A couple times? As a boyfriend, you sure are high maintenance.” She pushed away from the locker and started walking toward the science classrooms. I had to move fast to keep up with her.
“No, I’m not. Because as a couple, you’re happy to see my face.”
“Right. Fair warning, I can drum up sort of happy. But I doubt I can fake ecstatically happy like some of the girls around school. You do have quite a fan club.”
Ali & the Too Hot, Up-to-No Good, Very Beastly Boy: A Standalone Sweet YA Romance (Jackson High Series Book 1) Page 5